You're mother hugged me
when I walked in.
Asked how I'd been.
Told me it had been too long.
Picked me dry about
every little detail of my life;
where I was,
how I was doing,
how the northeast was treating me.
--Oh, it's all so splendid!--
She was enamored, your mother,
and I took you before dinner
in the back room
where your brother used to sleep.
--Like riding a bike, one never
truly forgets a woman--
It was magnificent
in all the ways I had remembered
and your father had cooked
the beef tips and broccoli
that he had made for your
birthday dinner all those winters ago
and we made small talk over the
beat of clinked china and good drink.
--They had a nicer bottle
of red for the occasion--
There was an intimacy to it
one that almost betrayed our
hidden skeletons.
It had been years since I'd seen you
I'd been away and traveling,
engaging in school
and intellectual activity
but the reason I left
--to find myself, if you recall
I told your mother--
was still unknown to our hosts.
Your mother hugged me
and the guilt ripped throughout like
a nail through wet wood,
and the look in your eyes
with your hand on your stomach
convinced me that we were both
condemned and that
damnation was the only honest
retribution we could deserve
and somewhere right this moment
there is a child
with her grandparents
making love with cheerios
and wailing her antipathies for the
world to hear
but for us there is
none.
There is only the look you gave me
as your mother hugged me
and the emptiness that filled
and still fills my stomach
much greater and
much longer than
your father's cooking
ever could.

During the course of that fine evening
I witnessed the way in how loosely you swayed

With a care-free skip in each step
There wasn’t a **** thing that could stop you

All the amour and elation dripping
As each bead of sweat bit the dust

And with nothing in mind
Repeatedly I continued to watch you

Though my lips won’t bring me to say
That I simply adore you…

Why has it come to the point
where life became as complex as this.
It's all about money,
and the people you don't know.

Why do you care so much?
About this and that,
when we have just lost someone
who will never come back.

Just be happy and be you
The more sadness around
the more the heart hurts.

Smile, be strong,
remember and don't forget.
That's the saddest thing
you can possibly do.

the hues of my imagination run ahead of me
chasing my dreams as reality lags behind
the ephemeral beauty of youth dances lively
but the ineffable grace of love is demure
the incipient infatuation progresses wildly
the flames too brilliant to ignore

She watched the apples from her window,
The way they clung to the branches grimly
When the wind blew, making them shiver.
Yet retaining their blush, as if to say
Look at me, and my innocence

She waited for the autumn eagerly,
They swelled importantly, but she knew
That the end was creeping closer,
A gentle touch could make them fly
And land with an honest thud and cracked skin.

Once she put her hand to impassive glass,
As if she wanted to save them.
For all their simpering arrogance,
She didn't like to see them in pain.
Weeping as time coated them in mould.

She bore witness to their disorderly end,
Spilled beneath the tree that birthed them
Like discarded marbles. She would've saved them,
But thought there was little point.
They always grew again, every year.